


One Morning in Maine

by cyborg22 (WishIWereATroubleMaker)



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Family Vacation, Fluff, Kid Fic, Late 1950s, M/M, New Englander things, Slice of Life, hawkeye just loves his family, just as a warning:, let hawkeye be the best stepdad, like my teeth hurt writing it fluff, mention of eating clams, super fluff, thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29503044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishIWereATroubleMaker/pseuds/cyborg22
Summary: On a cold April morning in Crabapple Cove, Erin becomes an official honorary Pierce. The price? Spending her third grade spring break digging for clams at 7:00AM.
Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	One Morning in Maine

**Author's Note:**

> this took me way too long to write lol, but its out. here it is. i had to add to my favorite mash trope, and that is hawkeye being the fun stepdad while simultaneously struggling to understand the emotional aspect of parenthood. this is also based partially on an ask i saw from horaetio on tumblr. if they see this, hi.... the idea of hawkeye teaching erin how to clam has been living rent free in my brain.  
> also, please don't judge me if i got anything wrong about clamming or making clam chowder. im from the midwest. everything i learned was from a couple of kids' and an italian woman's youtube channel and my own experience fishing catfish with my own dad. anyways, enjoy the brainrot!

Waking up to the cool, spring air of Maine in early April had never felt so foreign to Hawkeye. Despite spending every year between birth and deployment in this oasis called home, it had been quite a while since he had last experienced a true Northeastern spring. Unlike San Francisco, which never seemed to get below fifty degrees even in the depths of winter, there was still the possibility of snow this far into spring. Despite the grey clouds that covered the sky like a sheet, a quick trip out to the shed that morning reassured him that those chances were slim. 

It wasn’t long ago that spring break conjured a very different image in Hawkeye’s mind. The last place he would have thought of was his father’s house. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the company of his dad, there was just a severe lack of tacky tourist stops, fruity liquor, and scantily clad beachgoers in Crabapple Cove. One of the very few drawbacks to his beloved hometown. No, Maine would not have been Hawkeye’s first pick back in his prime. However, technically, this wasn’t his spring break. He just happened to be along for the ride. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with me not going with you guys?” BJ’s voice broke through the quiet of the morning, the only sound accompanying it was the clattering sound of a fishing pole being dragged out of the bed of Daniel’s truck. They had borrowed it for the day, the thing was ancient and only brought out for occasions such as this.

“It’s fine,” Hawk responded, waving a hand passively while the other pulled out a dingy metal bucket. “Besides, every kid has to go through this. It’s basically a Pierce rite of passage.” 

“That’s why I’m asking. You do remember she’s not a Pierce, right?” BJ said with a small grunt, reaching for his tackle box that had managed to slide towards the cab during the ride here. He pulled it out, looking back over to his partner with brows furrowed in concern. 

Hawkeye responded with his gut reaction, “Well, she’s as good as.” He looked away from the shovel he was pre-occupied with grabbing, meeting an all too familiar expression. BJ’s brow softened, eyes shining as if they had a few more stars in them than usual. His head tilted in a way that reeked of schmaltz. For a split second, Hawkeye felt a grin form before he gave BJ a light jab with his elbow. “This is the closest I’m gonna get. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

BJ’s cheesy expression dropped, his smile being that of a man who had just felt every ounce of love the universe had to offer enter and leave his being in a snap. (Okay, that’s a bit dramatic. A single ounce was left behind during the evacuation.) “You know what,” He leaned against Hawkeye, bumping him with his arm. “When the test comes back, you’re the first one I’m calling.” 

“You should’ve told me you were running late.” Hawkeye feigned sympathy as BJ checked his watch.

“I don’t know if I’d say it’s that late, the clock’s barely past seven.” He responded, showing Hawkeye his wrist. Hawkeye didn’t look, eyes locking on the other man with a deadpan expression. 

“If there wasn’t a chance of someone I went to high school driving by, I’d kiss you right now.”

A wide smile began to ripple across BJ’s face, a warm chuckle rising in his chest. He gave Hawkeye another gentle tap, “Save it for makeout point, bub.” When he finally looked away from the other man, he gave a single nod towards the water. Hawkeye’s own line of sight followed suit. While the gloomy horizon framing the low tide wasn’t a sight worth writing home about, he quickly realized that wasn’t what they were supposed to be watching. Quietly wandering along the line between the sand and the grass was a thoroughly bundled up little girl. Erin’s eyes were stuck on the ground as she mindlessly kicked through pebbles with her bright red rain boots. By the time BJ and Hawkeye decided to check on her, she was reaching down towards a small patch of dandelions. “I think you two should get going before the honorary Pierce decides she’d rather spend her morning picking weeds.” BJ chimed in, that grin still evident in his voice. 

Hawkeye simply hummed a response as he lifted the tip of the shovel off the pavement, deciding to follow BJ’s advice by taking a few steps towards the water. His own voice was a few decibels louder than anything they’d heard all morning as he called out Erin. “C’mon, kid, let’s get this show on the road!” She quickly looked up from the ground, her hands shoving into the pockets of her puffer jacket as she stood up. Before she knew it, Hawkeye had past her and began heading out onto the sand. In order to keep up with his lanky leg’s casual stride, her little legs had to break out into a light jog. 

Once she was finally able to walk alongside him, Erin looked up towards Hawkeye. His own eyes were locked on the ground as they drew closer to the water. Without prompting, she began looking as well. She wasn’t quite sure what exactly they were supposed to be looking at, the sand was mostly damp and dense from the high tide. There were the occasional seashells that mixed in with it, but by Hawkeye’s furrowed brow she assumed that wasn’t what they were looking for. As they walked along the water, the two didn’t really share any words. Without really any prompting, Hawkeye’s voice broke through the silence as if he were reading her mind. “What we’re looking for is little holes.” His tone seemed to trail off, his eyes still intently surveying the ground, “About the size of dimes.” It was now Erin’s turn to hum a response, her tone confident despite the wavering expression on her face. 

The two continued their trek a little bit farther before the quiet was once again broken by Hawkeye. By that point, Erin’s mind had fully begun to drift. However, it was the loud, “Ah-ha!” That broke her from her disinterested trance. Rather than looking at the ground, her attention shot up to Hawkeye, who was grinning from ear to ear. 

The man sat the bucket down on the ground as he began to crouch down to the sand, his newly free hand reaching out to point. “Look at that.” He marveled. Erin’s line of sight followed his outstretched arm. She saw exactly what Hawkeye had described; a small hole broken up the monotony of the sand. It was about the size of a dime, and to her surprise it wasn’t alone. Hawkeye’s pointed finger began vaguely motioning between the different spots before she looked back towards his face. “Deep down in there are clams.” He explained, finally looking back over towards the girl. 

Erin’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, her head tilting a bit. “Clams?” She questioned, looking down towards the holes. “Aren’t they a type of fish? They’re supposed to be underwater.” 

Hawkeye shrugged, “They wanted to get out of town for the weekend.” Erin’s expression was unwavering from its confused skew. Though crowd. He looked back towards the sand as he returned to a more educational tone. “Underneath the sand, there are little pockets that are filled with water. When the tide’s covering this part of the sand, the clams like to dig down in there. Sometimes when they’re in there, the tide moves back out and they’re stuck underground.” As he spoke, he mindlessly motioned with his hands. Erin watched intently as if the gestures provided even an iota of context. 

“So, the only way to get them out is to dig them up?” She asked, earning a snap and a finger gun from Hawkeye. “You got it, scout.” 

With that, Hawkeye’s legs straightened back out. He lifted the blade of the shovel once he was fully stood up, giving the ground in front of the pit a couple of taps with the tip of it before letting it sink into the sand. As he rested the arch of his foot on the flat top of the spade, the shovel disappeared into the earth. With a small grunt, he dug an even larger hole. Erin simply watched as he dug up a second shovel-full of sand before he took a knee.

Erin moved closer without prompting, eyeing the piles of sand as Hawkeye reached a hand towards it. He pushed through the crumbling heaps with his fingers attentively. Surveying the sand with one final rake, his hand clasped around something.  
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Hawkeye beamed, adjusting the item in his palm before opening his hand to Erin. Inside was a couple of wrinkle shells, the difference from the scattered many they had seen this morning was that they were still attached at the back. “This is what’s called a cherrystone. Exactly what we’re looking for.” Hawkeye explained, his hand gesturing forward towards Erin. Hesitantly, she lifted her own hand. “They don’t bite” His reassured, once again offering the clam for her to take. As her fingers grasped around the mollusk, Hawkeye nodded towards the bucket seated next to them. “Toss it in there. By noon we’ll have more clams than Howard Hughes.” 

Erin could tell Hawkeye was joking, but she didn’t quite get. She just assumed it was old man humor and took the clam. Her grip was much lighter than Hawkeye’s, carefully holding the shellfish with both hands as her eyes darted between it and Hawkeye. He nodded in approval as she took the clam over to the bucket, reaching in to gently place it at the bottom. When she turned back, Hawkeye had returned to digging through the sand for any he might have missed. There was one scraggler that he rinsed it off in the small pool of water that had formed on the beach before simply tossing it into the bucket with the first clam. 

The two of them continued on their quest for clams, starting with the cluster of burrows they had come across before carrying on down the coast. At first, Hawkeye did most of the heavy lifting. He would dig up the pocket of sand and rummage through the pile before handing over any clams he found to Erin. As they found more and more, she became more confident with her clam storing method. She would simply drop them into the bucket, lifting the metal handle when it was time to continue walking. It wasn’t long before Erin began crouching next to Hawkeye as he broke apart the large clumps of sand. Her own little hands would rake through the finer sections of the heap, immediately showing off the little shellfish she would find to Hawkeye with pride. 

Of course, Hawkeye was equally delighted. Even though the clams weren’t necessarily remarkable, every time Erin showed off her spoils his smile would widen and jaw would drop as if she had shown him a clam the size of a whale. This reaction only encouraged her to continue their hunt, her demeanor becoming more and more eager with each hole Hawkeye dug. 

At one point, the two of them had stopped at a particularly fruitful pit. Their hands were busy pulling out clams, but their attention was on another segment of this tradition. “People don’t actually eat them like that.” Erin said pointedly, earning a shrug from Hawkeye. “Of course they do, it’s a delicacy. Like foie gras and escargot.” 

“What is that?” Her brows furrowed as she asked.

“Duck liver and snails.” Erin’s face contorted in disgust, nose scrunching up at the mere thought. As she was left to ponder the horrors of French cuisine, Hawkeye reached a hand into the pocket of his coat. “Believe me, Erin, it’s not as bad as it sounds. The clams, that is.” His head nodded to the side as he rambled, “Never had foie gras, a little rich for my blood.” As he pulled out a pocketknife, his opposite hand reached into the bucket to grab one of their cherrystones. He gave the shell a quick smell before adjusting it in his palm. 

Carefully, Hawkeye used the flat edge of the knife to open the clam. It popped open without much of a fight. While he was busy detaching the meat from the shell, Erin spoke up again. “How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?” Her arms crossed tightly as she waited for a reason or a snide remark. 

Instead of arguing any further, once Hawkeye had finished prepping it, he lifted the bottom shell as if he were giving a toast. Without another word he put the shell to his lips, tilted his head back, and to Erin’s surprise, he ate it. He pulled the shell away and swallowed it in one big gulp. After it was gone, he even opened his mouth wide to show that he wasn’t storing it in his cheek or under his tongue. Erin could only watch the man, her mouth agape as his closed into an arrogant grin. Nothing quite topped the satisfaction of proving a child wrong. 

Before a fly could buzz into Erin’s mouth, Hawkeye was reaching back into the bucket for another clam. With his knife he began cracking open another one. “I hate to say it, kid, but” He glanced up at Erin with that smug smile still lacing his face. “I told you so. I’ve never told a lie in your entire life, why would I start now?” Now, maybe he was stretching the truth there. Though Hawkeye would never outright lie to Erin, there have been plenty of times in which he would equivocate. Plenty of conversations were best saved for a later date, ideally never at all. 

Erin’s crossed arms began to sink in defeat, her eyes softened in a way that was so familiar. It was that expression that carried a level of disappointment, but a willingness to indulge in Hawkeye’s antics anyway. Defeated yet agreeable. They reminded him of BJ. It made his chest tighten a little bit, his ego subsiding for just a moment as his smile eased. It made him oddly pensive for someone who was just riding the high of a proven point. When people talk about having kids, they always say how nice it is having a little version of them running around in the world. While BJ had mentioned how much Erin looked like Peg, Hawkeye had never really noticed how much she reminded him of BJ. No one really mentioned to him how nice it is to see a little version of the person you love. 

Shifting the weight on his knees, Hawkeye tried to shake away that moment of irritable thoughtfulness as he finished prepping the second clam. “It’s just the one. If you don’t like it, you’ll never have to try it again.” Hawkeye reassured, flicking the knife back into the handle before looking back at Erin. “Mom said that about cabbage, and we have that every week.” She gave one final shot at a debate. Hawkeye retorted, “Well, your mom probably doesn’t want you to have this in the first place.” He offered the single shell forward, and Erin apprehensively looked between his hand and his face. 

With no argument left to make, Erin gingerly held the shell in her fingers. Her eyes locked on Hawkeye one more time as she asked, “Just the one?” Hawkeye slowly nodded, “And you’ll never hear about it again.” Erin gave a single nod back, her sight falling back onto the clam as she took a deep breath in. She held that breath in her gut, shoulders hiking up as she closed her eyes. With one swift motion, she placed the shell against her mouth and tilted it back. Before she even had a chance to react, Hawkeye was beaming. It was only after she dropped the shell that he began cackling. 

As soon as it touched her tongue, Erin’s brave face completely dropped. Her nose and eyes crinkled as her frown flattened in repulsion. Little hands were balled up into fists, but she was able to swallow it. Just like Hawkeye, she let her mouth open to show off that she had indeed eaten it all. Too bad Hawkeye missed most of it. He was too busy laughing at her expression to marvel at the feat. It was only worsened by her opening her mouth, but at least at that point he was able to clap through the guffaw. His arms outstretched as he offered a round of applause for Erin’s efforts, but she was busy wiping her tongue off with the sleeve of her coat to really appreciate the support. 

That day Hawkeye promised that Erin would never have to eat clams again. Well… she would never have to eat raw clams again. 

That evening, after the two finally decided to meet back up with BJ at the truck, they returned to Daniel’s house with the day’s bounty. Once they were back, Hawkeye and his father got to work in the kitchen, shucking shells as if it were routine. Meanwhile, the Californians huddled in front of the furnace, playing cards as if either of them really knew how. It was a quiet affair. Erin was tuckered out after a long day at the beach, and the two who went with her weren’t feeling particularly energetic either. All that they really had left to worry about was dinner. It was a standard chowder. Potatoes, celery, bacon, and, of course, chunks of clam were mixed in. As the stove heated the kitchen, the other two would trail away from the heater and towards the food. As BJ snooped from over his shoulder, Erin was busy bumping against Hawkeye’s arm as he spooned the dish out of the dutch oven and into mismatched bowls. 

“What’d you say was in it?” Erin asked as Hawkeye handed her a shallowly filled bowl. He had to think on his feet, coming up with the solid argument of, “It’s like soup. You eat soup when we’re at home.” If she were any older, she might not have bought that. Luckily, she was still easy to swindle. Hawkeye patted her shoulder mindlessly after she took her dish and started heading to the dining table. As he was busy turning back around to make himself a bowl, he caught a glimpse of his father out of the corner of his eye. He was wearing a grin that could only be read as delighted. “What’s got you so giddy?” Hawkeye asked, nudging Daniel as he carried on salting his chowder. 

“Oh, nothing really.” His father insisted, sticking a spoon into his bowl before picking it. Mindlessly, the older man stirred in the salt with his free hand as he leaned against the counter. With a brow risen and the grin still planted on his face, he looked at Hawkeye. “I probably forgot, but when did you say you all had to be back home by?”


End file.
